


won't let go again

by virtuemoirlike (katya_kool)



Series: grief 'verse [2]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 13:45:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16788115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katya_kool/pseuds/virtuemoirlike
Summary: the in-between of stages four and five.aka the 'healing' part





	won't let go again

**Author's Note:**

> college is rough, first of all. so it's been a while. this is pretty bad. v unedited, v last minute. this was just in my drafts, so I figured now is the time I may as well but it out there. 
> 
> also, just like the first, slightly Hamilton inspired, blame @rainy-sunshine.  
> (even tho she's so much better than me, an icon tbh)

_There are moments that the words don’t reach_

_There is suffering to terrible to name_

“Do you want a sandwich?”

Tessa’s staring at the counter when her husband’s voice startles her out of her thoughts. She was considering her daughter’s last weeks, chained to her bed. She was so tired. They’re always of her daughter these days. She hasn’t showered in a week and is wearing ratty old sweatpants. Her past self would be shocked at her lack of concern for her appearance, but Tessa’s tired. She’s _always_ tired.

_No I don’t want a sandwich I want my daughter back._

But that won’t do. She’s trying to be a good wife. That’s all she can do lately.

She nods, pushing her hair behind her ears. “Yes please. “

He makes it quickly and quietly, just the way she likes it, with ham and cheese on rye, and hands it out to her. She can still hear the little voice chanting _mama mama please another sandwich I’m hungry_ and it forces her to close her eyes at the memory. It still hurts. _Everything_ hurts. When she opens them again he’s right in front of her and looks concerned. Tessa’s grateful that he doesn’t ask any questions. At least he understands that. She takes a deep breathes and grabs it.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He begins to make his own sandwich, and she stares at him. She hasn’t _seen_ him in a while.

It’s still painful to be around him, she sees her curls in his hair, but for some reason the thought of her returning to her room alone right now makes her feel sick and wrong. She misses what they used to have, the stability and consistency in their relationship. For the first time she feels motivated to _do_ something, so she impulsively leans forward and calls out to her husband.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

Scott looks surprised, maybe stunned that she actually wants to do something besides cry, and she feels a prickle of guilt on her spine. Maybe this was a bad idea. Tessa moves to make amends, trying to fix the situation.

“If you don’t ..”

He interrupts her. “No I do. Any preferences?”

She shakes her head, already worn out from all the effort of conversation. He picks out a comedy and puts it into the player, and they take seats on opposite sides of the couch. Tessa wants to get closer to him, to feel his presence, but she still feels bad about the last time he tried to initiate contact and she had bucked away.

_She’s crying, as per usual now, when Scott shows up in her (their) doorway._

_“Tessa? What’s wrong?”_

_That’s such an idiotic question. What does he think is wrong? Scott moves toward her, probably about to attempt comfort._

_“No! No! stop!” He doesn’t understand, her baby is gone, her world is missing._

_“What?” She can see the confusion on his face, but she can’t be bothered to try to explain. All she feels is grief._

_“Leave me alone. My daughter is gone.” The heartbreak on his face makes her want to apologize, but then she remembers her daughter is gone, gone forever, and it quickly evaporates._

_“Tess” She can’t look into his eyes._

_“Stop. Just get out please.”_

_Please don’t leave me._

_He leaves, and she sobs harder._

She pushes it down like she does everything else and pulls a blanket onto her lap. She manages to stay awake the entire movie and doesn’t feel anything as she watches it. It’s almost relief, a break from swirling down the drain.

It becomes a routine, watching movies together silently but apart. He always picks. It’s something, a way to be together while not feeling pressured to talk. They alternate making the sandwiches. It’s _something_.

***

_The moments when you’re in so deep_

_It feels easier to just swim down._

Scott spies Tessa looking at a picture of their daughter still up in their living room. He thought his mother took them all down after the funeral, but she must have missed one. It makes his heart clench, and he feels the phantom pain. He feels like he’s lost everything, and he doesn’t know how to get it back.

“I miss her. And you.”

Tessa looks alarmed by him, even though he’s been in the room for a good ten minutes. She pushes her hair back behind her ears and assumes a defensive position. Scott hates that she thinks she’s the enemy right now. He’s not, he hasn’t been in a while. He just misses his wife.

“I’m right here.”

That isn’t what he means. She knows what he means. He doesn’t want to push her, she’s so fragile right now, but he has to explain. She might listen to him right now. She’s usually too numb to let the words sink in.

“But you aren’t. and I don’t blame you for that, I really don’t. but I miss you Tess. I lost my daughter, and I don’t want to lose you too.”

“You aren’t losing me.”

He _is._

“It feels like it.” There’s a silence between them, too much quiet. Silence used to be comfortable, to be good between them, but now they’re awkward. It’s like when they were dating other people and there was always a thing between them but now it’s gone, or at least changed.

“I’m sorry.” He looks down, unwilling to see the hurt in her eyes.

_This isn’t a guilt trip._

“So am I.”He glances back up, and her face is shining with tears, and he hates this. Tessa crying has always been the worst sight in the world, a rare occasion that had to be immediately remedied. But he can’t change this. He hates that she’s in pain and that she’s shutting him out.

“I can’t keep doing this, we’re stuck in a cycle” Its so frustrating to him, there’s too much blame in the air. This is a tragedy, this is trauma in every sense of the word, and its impossible to be trying to work on so many fronts at one time.

“Do you want me to move out?”

“No. Unless you want to.” He doesn’t know what she wants to hear.

“I”

“I know I know.”

“I trying to stay up, to get after it, but its so hard. Its like. There’s no point. Everything that I thought mattered doesn’t anymore.”

She’s always been the most driven person he knows, and to see her look this is hard. This loss has completely changed her, and while its changed him too, its easier to see the differences in someone else.

He reaches for her, and she lets him.

“Tess”

“But you matter. You matter Scott.” She swallows hard, looking like she’s forcing the words out of her throat.

“But I’m just not ready, and I’m sorry for that, I really am. But I’m not ready to go back to us, or at least who we used to be.”

“I’m not either. We are who we are, and we’re different now. But that’s okay, Tessa, because I love you.“

They sleep together for the first time since their daughter died that night. It feels like forgiveness, and the loneliness is finally dissipating.

_You hold your child as tight as you can_

_And push away the unimaginable_

They clean up her room. Most of the toys are boxed up to be donated, along with all of the clothes. They keep a few things for keepsakes of course, but it doesn’t make sense to have her entire collection.

It takes months.

Tessa is tired the entire time.

She’s always tired these days.

_There is grace, too powerful to name._

They’re cooking together, trying to make a meal. Their families are coming over for a Sunday night dinner, the first one they’ve hosted in a while. It didn’t feel right before, but now things feel better. They weren’t _healed_ now, whatever that meant, but they could attempt to piece together their fragmented lives.

_"_ Do you remember when I tried to bake that desert that she had to have and it got burnt so badly so we ate popcorn instead?”

He glances over at his wife, and she’s clutching a baking pan with a slight char stain. She doesn’t look sad, not quite, just reflective. It feels like it should hurt more, her mentioning his daughter and their memories, but it doesn’t.

“We pulled it out of the oven, and her face was priceless. She kept gaping at us, as if we should have prevented it.” Scott remembers that day, they were having a Friday movie night in. Casual. Their old normal.

_“You ruined it” She pouts, lip jutted out with her arms crossed. She’s not impressed._

_“I’m sorry baby” His wife is giggling but trying to hide it, and he knows it’s because of how adorable she looks right now. God, how lucky is he._

_“Stop laughing mama, there’s no more chocolate.”_

_She’s Tessa’s daughter, that’s for sure._

_Her eye’s are slowly starting to well up, which is not as adorable as her previous expression._

_“How about some” He looks around the kitchen despeartaly. “Popcorn.”_

_“Popcorn?”_

_“Yeah. C’mon, we can sprinkle chocolate on top.” It’s the best appeasement method he knows._

_“Okay.”_

_She runs into her room, assuming her parents will call for her when they’re done making her treat._

_Tessa turns to him, cocking her head slgihtly._

_“Popcorn Scott, really?”_

_“Did you have a better idea?” He’s not defensive, just calling her bluff._

_She breaks and starts laughing again._

_“No its great.” Tessa walks over and kisses him on the shoulder, and he holds her while she attempts to muffle her giggles. It’s semi-effective at best._

_Eventually it pops, and they call her back in and watch the movie. Their daughter loves it. He loves watching her love it.That’s what his life’s about now._

"It took me two hours to scrub that pan.”

"I forgot about that for a second. I really did.” Memories have a funny way of doing that, popping into one’s head when they least expect it. But maybe that’s for the best.

When their families show up, they don’t comment on their misty eyes. They don’t seem sunken, rather, clinging together. They hold hands after the meal, and there’s hope.

They eat some popcorn with chocolate drizzled over it after their parents leave, and enjoy it together in bed. It tastes familiar, and like history.

It tastes like togetherness.

_She takes his hand._

There isn’t one precise moment where they fall back together and become what they once were. That’s impossible, they’re different people now.

But they’re more open.

They talk about the grief, and how they feel, instead of droning while two feet apart. It‘s harsh sometimes, they can be blunt like a knife, but that’s better then having nothing. They go back into therapy, and work through the miscommunications and heartbreak.

He moves back in to the master bedroom.

_“Are you coming home?”_

_“Always.”_

They allow themselves to be happy without feeling guilty.

Life continues on, and so do they.

**Author's Note:**

> no matter what, I will always support Tessa and Scott. together or apart. hope this was moderately decent, maybe I'll edit it at some point.
> 
> all my love,  
> katie


End file.
